


retail therapy

by likecharity



Category: Chronicles of Narnia RPF, Jonas Brothers
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M, Sharing Clothes, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-21
Updated: 2008-10-21
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likecharity/pseuds/likecharity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will needs an outfit for the Paris premiere of Prince Caspian. Perhaps Joe Jonas can help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	retail therapy

**Author's Note:**

> For [sundappled](http://sundappled.livejournal.com), who requested it, and also for all my Narnia fandom friends who are putting up with my current Jonas Brothers obsession. XD

Anna Popplewell and Georgie Henley are doing some leisurely shopping in Camden together when suddenly Georgie grabs Anna's arm and points wildly into the distance. "Hey, is that Will? Who's he with?"

Anna squints. It _is_ Will, she's pretty sure, but she can't tell anything about the guy walking next to him except that he has straight, dark hair and is wearing a scarf. He glances behind him and suddenly Georgie shrieks.

"Oh my god, is that _Joe Jonas?_ "

"Who?" says Anna blankly, but Will and the mystery man have already disappeared from sight.

***

  
"Right," says Joe in a voice that means business. He claps his hands together. "What are we looking for?"

"I don't know," says Will helplessly, kicking a stone along the pavement in front of him. "I haven't come up with any ideas yet."

Joe leaps in front of him, now walking backwards down the street, and waves his arms around. "Then let's _brainstorm_ , man. Where's the premiere?"

"Paris," Will replies.

Joe _ooh_ s approvingly, and then is silent for a long moment. He's tapping his finger against his bottom lip and Will thinks he's either in deep thought, or he's forgotten what they're talking about altogether. It's hard to tell with Joe.

Eventually, though, he nods and says, "I got it, I got it."

Will perks up. "You have? What?"

"What?" says Joe, slowing down and nearly tripping over some woman's dog. He leaps aside, showering her with apologies, and then turns back to Will. "No, I mean, I see the dilemma. It's _Paris_ , so it's like...the city of fashion."

"I thought it was love."

Joe tilts his head, raising an eyebrow and flashing Will a cheeky grin. "You thought _what_ was love?" he asks, and Will's heart does something strange, but before he has a chance to mumble something back, Joe is talking again. "So what've you been wearing to the other premieres?"

"Uh, suits," Will replies.

"Just suits?" Joe asks, looking a little disappointed, and Will nods, feeling rather pathetic.

They _were_ just suits, just plain and simple suits in black, navy blue, sometimes grey. Sometimes he wore a tie, sometimes he didn't. He supposes that's all very boring -- after all, Joe Jonas's idea of a suit is one so red it makes your eyes hurt, teamed with shiny white trainers. Will sighs wistfully. Oh, to have that marvellous sense of style.

"It's okay," says Joe, sensing Will's despair and patting him gently on the shoulder. Will nearly swallows his gum, making an unattractive gulping sound, but Joe appears not to hear. "We'll find you something, dude. We will. Maybe in here! What's in here?"

He leaps suddenly to the left, disappearing into a small shop that is suspiciously dark inside, and then leaps out again just as quickly.

"Apparently, some kind of fetishwear," he says shiftily, hurriedly continuing on his way down the street, and this time, Will really _does_ swallow his gum.

Coughing, he trots after him. "You know, it's okay -- it's okay if I just wear a suit again," he says. "I mean, Ben's been wearing the exact same outfit since day one, and Skandar only ever wears jeans anyway, so--"

Joe stops still, steering Will out of the way of the crowds and up to a shopfront by placing a hand against his chest. Will's heartbeat immediately quickens and he blinks at Joe in confusion. Joe is shaking his head in disappointment.

"That won't do, man," he says. "You're not _like_ them. You're into fashion. You've got _style._ Right? C'mon."

Will continues to blink at him, helplessly.

"Maybe, _maybe_ you could get away with wearing the same pair of pants twice, and maybe the same jacket too, but we at _least_ need to find you a new shirt. Something that says 'stylish'. Something that says 'sophisticated'. Something that says...'Paris'."

Decisively, Joe grabs Will by the arm and drags him into the nearest shop, which, luckily, is not primarily concerned with selling leather and chains.

"What d'you think then?" Joe asks. "What kind of shirt?"

"I don't know," says Will sadly.

Joe Jonas is a whirlwind of colours and patterns, of fabrics and fastenings. He skips across the shiny shop floor, skimming rails of shirts with a loud clattering of hangers. Will is mesmerised. How is he supposed to keep up? Joe even owns more scarves than him, and that's saying something.

"How about this?" says Joe, holding up something pale pink and slightly frilly. It might be a woman's shirt accidentally placed in the men's department, but Will likes it. Before he has a chance to say so, however, Joe is holding up another garment, and then another. "This?" says Joe. "This? This, maybe, if you cut off the tassels at the bottom? Or left them on, y'know, if that's what you're into."

Will follows him around the shop, watching as he piles shirt after shirt into his arms.

"Dressing rooms," Joe sings after about ten minutes, swaying off in an unexpected direction and leaving Will to hurry after him.

***

  
"That looks good," Joe says cheerfully when Will pulls back the curtain to reveal himself in the frilly pink thing.

Actually, it doesn't, mostly because it is frilly and pink, but also because it is about three sizes too small and has clearly been made for somebody who has breasts.

"So does that," Joe says in regards to the next shirt, a silky dark green one.

"And that," he says when Will appears wearing the tasselled number. "I take back what I said about those tassels. I like them. Do you have anything with tassels on already?"

Will has to admit that he doesn't, unless cushions count.

"You should. They suit you," Joe says, then tosses another shirt at Will and yanks the curtain back across.

When he reappears, Joe is silent for a moment. Will grimaces, glancing down at himself. The shirt's not _that_ bad, just a little starchy and boring. But then again, to Joe, that probably spells disaster.

"I don't like it," says Joe, "but it still looks good on you. Everything looks good on you, man, I don't know why you're having such a hard time."

Will blushes, and hates himself for it. Having a crush on _Joe Jonas_ is probably one of the weirdest things to ever happen to him. It makes him feel like he should be a twelve year old girl holding up signs at concerts asking Joe to marry him or something. But then again, it makes sense -- confident, cheeky, a bit of a prankster? Joe is _definitely_ his type. Not to mention, he's _hot._ He looks Joe up and down. No use trying to tell himself he's just admiring the guy's fashion sense anymore -- he's interested in what's _under_ his clothes.

He sighs. _Stupid purity ring._

"What's up?" Joe says gently, taking a step closer. "Don't worry, man, I told you we'll find something. Like I said, you look good in everything. Even this."

He strokes his fingers against the scratchy fabric of Will's current shirt, up against the stiff collar, and Will tenses up, hands balled into fists by his sides. Joe's fingers travel further, crossing over from fabric to skin and brushing Will's neck gently.

"Hey," he murmurs, leaning in, "you're gay, right?"

All Will can do is stammer a _yes_ and then Joe's lips are on his, soft and warm. He barely has a chance to process it before he's being backed up against the dressing room wall, crushing two silk shirts. He has a coathook digging into his back, but he really couldn't care less.

"Where do you live?" Joe asks breathily after a moment.

"What?"

"Your house. Is it far from here?"

The look in his eyes is easy to interpret and Will's heart races. "Um, yeah, quite far. Your hotel is probably nearer," he says. "But what about -- I'm sorry, this might sound silly, but what about your ring?"

Joe chuckles, brushing Will's hair out of his eyes. "Me and my brothers have a rule," he says, "that it doesn't count with other guys."

"Oh," Will says stupidly. "Right. Okay."

There's a slightly awkward pause, and then Joe's eyes light up.

"Need help taking that shirt off?" he asks eagerly.

***

  
Will wakes up several hours later than he intends to, finding that it's almost eight o' clock. He is in a bed in a hotel room, and Joe Jonas is next to him, hogging the duvet and snoring in a way that's somehow endearing. He stares at Joe's peaceful, sleeping face for a moment, then glances down at his own naked body, and decides he should probably get dressed. Joe said Nick and Kevin would be back in the evening and no matter _what_ 'rules' they have, Will would rather they didn't find him in bed with their brother.

He gets out of bed and pulls his boxers off the lamp they're draped over, and then sets about trying to find his shirt. Thinking about shirts leads him to remember that he _still_ hasn't found anything to wear for the Paris premiere, and he swears under his breath.

Sighing, he goes back to the bed and tries to gently shake Joe awake.

"Dinosaurs," Joe mumbles into his pillow. "Cheesecake. What?"

"It's me," Will grins. "I just -- I think I'd better get going, but um -- we should do this again. If you want, I mean. Including the shopping, because I still don't have anything and the premiere's in three days."

Joe rubs his eyes, and blinks at Will blearily. "No can do," he replies. "I'm fully-booked until I leave. But I know what'll help."

Sleepily, he slithers out of bed and pads across the room towards the wardrobe. Many people would say he has _far_ too many clothes in there for a brief visit to London, but it's okay -- Will understands. Joe yawns and hands him a shirt.

"Got it from a video shoot," he says. "You can keep it if you want."

Will pulls it on and turns towards the mirror, trying to focus on his own reflection instead of the naked Joe beside him. The shirt is made of sheer black fabric, soft to the touch, and it has eight gold stripes across the chest. It's perfect. It says 'stylish'. It says 'sophisticated'. It _definitely_ says 'Paris'.

Unfortunately, it _also_ says 'I had sex with a Jonas brother and now I'm wearing his shirt', but Will?

Is blissfully unaware.

 

 

 

**END.**

  



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